


but my peace has always depended on all the ashes in my wake

by ashintuku



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-07 15:35:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14674098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashintuku/pseuds/ashintuku
Summary: They came to an understanding after that night.





	1. Chapter 1

They came to an understanding after that night. 

Walking to the Library, leaving the others to their own preparations, Nott had caught Beau's eye and the monk had nodded to whatever question she read in those bright yellow eyes. It seemed to settle Nott, and then they were in the Library, Caleb losing himself to the stacks, and neither brought it up again. 

But from then on, when Caleb looked for bookstores and libraries, Beau always made sure she went with him. When they went crawling through derelict labs and dungeons, Nott snooped extra thoroughly to find hidden knowledge and spells. Beau did what she could to take the hits meant for the wizard and, in return, Nott watched her back from the shadows. 

It wasn't perfect, not by a long shot - but it worked. 

Over time, maybe they would even fully trust each other. Maybe Nott would fully sleep when Beau was on night watch (somewhat unlikely); maybe Beau would stop suspecting Nott when her things went missing (highly unlikely). Maybe they would call each other friends instead of just work partners and associates. 

Maybe they would be able to save Caleb from himself. 

But for now, Beau took the hits meant for Caleb and played bodyguard at libraries and bookstores; Nott watched her back and searched for books and spells. Both kept an eye on the wizard and an ear out for Ikithon and tried their best to keep the Mighty Nein safe and with gold in their pockets. 

They came to an understanding that night. 

One of many.


	2. Chapter 2

Caleb hated large crowds. 

He hated the flush of bodies, the noise on all sides, the press of elbows and shoulders as he tried to reach his destination. He hated how people looked at him, even at a glance. It overwhelmed him; made his breathing pick up, harsh and rasp-wheezy. _Gott, gott_ , he couldn't take it-- 

But. 

But he hated being alone even more. 

He hated the vast emptiness of a room devoid of life save for him. Hated the way the walls echoed if he breathed too deeply. He hated how his thoughts and memories screamed at him and consumed him with absolutely nothing to block the fire and the guilt and the shame. It was too much, too much like a cabin in the woods like an asylum in the dark it was too _much_ \--

But. 

Caleb breathed in deeply, through his nose: dark, greasy hair pressed to his face; the distant scent of incense and sage drifting from behind him. A fire crackled merrily, warmly, as quiet conversation filled his ears. 

Fjord snored, loud and jarring. Mollymauk, behind him, muttered something about fruit before turning so his back was to Caleb. Nott curved in closer against his chest, burrowed under his coat. He was almost certain that Jester was flung over their feet with Frumpkin dejectedly in her arms. Beau stood watch, Yasha beside her; their voices soft and promising safety. 

But this, he thought, closing his eyes - this was just enough.


	3. Chapter 3

He wanted this group to work. 

There was strength in numbers - he'd learnt that when he was young and the other kids (smaller, pinker, flat teeth and sharp eyes) used to gang up on him. There was safety in a group like this: everyone had a strength that the others could exploit. Everyone served a purpose. 

It reminded him of life on a ship, in a few ways. Everyone had their role, and they stuck to that role. They looked out for one another. 

No one was going to drown in their group. The others would yank them back up before they even got close. 

He wanted this group to work. 

It felt right, travelling with them. Like he had been spared a watery grave in order to find these people and do what he needed to do to grow. 

A yellow eye came to the forefront of his thoughts. Water in his lungs; blood in his mouth; a voice so deep it shook the marrow in his very bones. And power - power crackling at his fingertips, sharp and electric and a complete unknown. Everything about him - completely unknown. 

He wanted the Mighty Nein to work. 

In fact, Fjord _needed_ it to.


	4. Chapter 4

When he first offered magic, he had asked what she wanted to do the most. 

At the time, she was still pretty little, and a little lonely, and she wanted a friend! Someone to dance with, and play jokes with. And so he taught her how to _invoke duplicity_ and she and her duplicate and he all danced in her room; a little party all their own. 

When he asked her a second time, she was on the road and had just had to fight _bandits_ \- which she had read about had never met face-to-face before. And that was pretty freaky, so she told him she wanted to be able to defend herself, you know? 

So he taught her how to use a sickle, and taught her _toll of the dead_ ; helped her perfect _hellish rebuke_ and told her she should totally get, like, a shield of something. And she got like super, super strong, it was great! 

The last time he asked her what she wanted to do the most, she was with her new friends! And they kept dropping like flies - really inconvenient, really. Super lame. 

But there was Fjord, who was handsome and mysterious; Beau, who was super cool and an awesome roommate; Yasha, who was really strong (just like her!) but also really sweet; Nott, who was the best partner in crime, like, ever; Molly, who was silly but really, really fun; and Caleb, who was a bit of a dick but also super nice and smelled really bad. 

And she told him she wanted to protect them all, so he taught her how to _heal_. 

(Jester thought that was pretty cool.)


	5. Chapter 5

They hadn't spoken, one on one, since the Harvest Close gala and the High Richter's house. 

Fjord knew that, in his own who quiet way, Caleb was avoiding him. Not in any noticeable way, of course. They still spoke - still listened to one another's ideas. Fjord still admired Caleb's abilities and Caleb still trusted him in battle if nowhere else. They worked well together, and nothing had changed. Not really. 

Except that it one hundred percent had. 

Fjord watched as Caleb withdrew, and stopped offering his input, and only listened and did what he could at the group's request. He deflected questions and compliments and shared little around the campfire when everyone else offered tidbits of their lives from before - Beau and her hints at training as a monk, Yasha and what Xhorhas was like, Molly and life with the circus, Jester and her adventures with the Traveller. Even he shared bits from life on a ship, if he thought he could talk around anything important. 

It was nothing extreme - in fact, for Caleb, it was perfectly normal. He had always been distant. 

And that was the godsdamned problem. 

Fjord ran a hand over his jaw, a claw picking at the scratched to shit surface nub of a tusk. He watched Caleb with narrowed eyes as the wizard set up his spot and spoke quietly to Nott. 

When it came to volunteer for the first watch, Caleb lifted a hand and shuffled to a good spot near the fire. Fjord stood before Nott could even speak. 

"I'll join ya if y'don't mind?"

Caleb blinked, reminding the half-orc of Frumpkin, before he shook his head. 

" _Ja_ , that is fine." 

Fjord have Nott his most disarming smile; the goblin glared at him before muttering something to Caleb and scuttling to her pack. Fjord waited until the camp was quiet for all but the fire before he turned to look at Caleb. 

"I actually wanted to talk t'ya," he said, rubbing his jaw again. Caleb looked up from his book, staring at him. From the corner of his eye, Fjord could see Frumpkin walking around the perimeter of the camp where Caleb had set up the silver thread for the alarm spell: ready for Caleb to look through his eyes periodically throughout his watch. "About that night at the High Richter's place." 

"What is there to talk about? Dolan appears to be in a position of power, now, like we were aiming for, and it all thankfully worked out--" 

"Caleb, I had my falchion to your _neck_." 

Caleb paused. Fjord sucked on the ragged edge of a tusk. 

" _Ja_ , you did," he said eventually. "I was putting the mission in jeopardy. You had little choice." 

"I think I coulda handled it without getting violent."

"That was the best way," Caleb said, shaking his head. "You made it so I would be unable to try and hurt you. Very smart."

Fjord blinked, shaking his head and Caleb smiled grimly. It was not a good look on him. It dragged lines into his face that spoke of something unpleasant - years of some unknown suffering. 

"Sure, but we're a team - I should be able to just talk t'ya. We have to learn to trust one another. I remember telling ya I wanted to earn your trust." 

Caleb stared at him, grim expression falling off his face after a moment; leaving him with the blank expression he tended to wear. He looked away. 

"I am not someone you should trust. I am someone that you should not want to trust, or that you should not want to trust you. I am not a good person." 

"Thought you were big on second chances." 

Here, Caleb flinched and his expression turned steely in the firelight. He looked down at the book on his lap, tracing a symbol with the tip of a finger. 

"I am. But I haven't earned mine. Not yet." He sighed, looking in Fjord's direction from the corner of his eye. "I do not hold that night against you - do you hold it against me?"

"Well...no."

"Then there is nothing more to discuss." His eyes glazed over, then, and Fjord turned to where Frumpkin stared at him a short distance away. 

He knew a dismissal when he saw one. 

Didn't mean they were done talking about this. Not by a long shot. 

Not if Fjord had anything to say about it.


End file.
